


The Hoarder of Pigs

by Purpleeyedmiss



Series: Devil Came Through Here [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), The Cat Lady (Video Game)
Genre: Abandonment, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Will, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Character Death, Depression, Dialogue Heavy, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hannibal Loves Will, Heavy Angst, Immortality, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Psychological Horror, Purgatory, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Symbolism, Terminal Illnesses, The Cat Lady AU, Triggers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:18:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpleeyedmiss/pseuds/Purpleeyedmiss
Summary: Will Graham is in his mid-thirties, unemployed, living alone in a ground floor apartment, with only the company of the stray neighborhood dogs he daily takes care of - his last solace in life. He has nightmares, feels constantly tired and unmotivated, and there's barely anything left in him that could turn this monotone lifestyle around.So, one night, he swallows all the pills he can find in his drawer, and cuts his lifespan short. But a peaceful death isn't as welcoming as he imagined; he finds himself in a mad, purgatory world and a mysterious man in a house in the woods greets him with open arms, proposing a bargain: If Will kills five people for him, he shall return to life, and truly find happiness after years of solitude.However, Will finds it difficult for him to trust anyone - and the devilish smile behind the burning amber eyes of the strange man tells him that happiness doesn't come without great sacrifice.





	

 

_My name is Will Graham._

_I live alone in this old two-bedroom apartment. I rarely go outside._

_Some would say it’s a lonely life, and I guess that’s true… But I don’t like people’s company._

_Not lately, anyway._

_I only trust my dogs these days and I will miss them dearly… But they will understand, like they always have._

_Winston stays with me until the end. He watches me, as if he knew…_

_Because earlier tonight I swallowed a bunch of pills. They’re legal, of course. Prescribed by my doctor for my sleeping problems._

_But… I’ve taken thirty-four of them. All I could find in the drawer… And now the room around me spins in a blurry tango as my heart slows down._

_Any second now, I will be dead._

_I feel calm. I’m ready for it._

_I’ve only got one thing to say now._

_Thanks for nothing._

_Goodbye._

* * *

 

 

Once he had opened his eyes, he was standing in a field of wild barley.

The sky was dampened with heavy, grey clouds, yet the bright, orange tone of the falling sundown painted them with the warmest shades, radiating them to the golden hues of the barley leaves and stems. The wind was fresh, pulling his dark, brown curls away from his face, breathing in and out that enveloping air around him, the plants around him wheezing as they brushed against each other with the breeze.

Will felt… Peaceful. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long, time. And, for now, he knew that every single little pill he had gulped dry down his throat had been worth this sensation… Regardless of where he really was right now, or if he had ceased to exist for good.

Either way, he was savoring _every_ second spent in this field.

He decided to walk, his feet light, unfeeling the earth beneath them, almost as if his entire body had morphed into a gas-like state. He was floating, slipping through the barley, as hands softly brushing against his exposed arms.

It was then that he realized he was still wearing what he had been using back at his apartment: a white, pristine button up shirt with its sleeves rolled up and a pair of black trousers. He touched his face, with no particular reason; His beard was just as uneven as ever… But nothing really mattered now.

After some undetermined time strolling through the field, he saw a shack approaching him, metal and wood, rust and rot, most likely abandoned; and threatening to fall apart. Once near it, he noticed a post with a red flag fluttering overhead; its cloth tattered at the end as if munched meekly by moths. The window above the wooden door was shattered in a web-like formation, a warm yellow light calling him inside. He was about to try to open the door out of instinct, but he soon found the door had a small padlock securing the entrance. First peace, now curiosity…

The key had to be around somewhere, Will thought… He kept pressing forward down the flat valley, the sky clearing, emanating that dark, evening blue, almost cobalt before night fell, and fading into that bright orange that began to outstay its welcome more than it was natural to.

As he walked and walked, he saw a building - tall and covering the surroundings as if out of place. Once he had passed a pillar, the ambiance turned into a monochrome picture, rusted abandoned cars welcoming him at the entrance of the tunnel. Soon, the broken cars began to agglomerate as he went further in, the tunnel straightening in height, the walls darkening with black mold and rust, and only round, cold white lights dimly brightening up his now uneasy steps.

After he walked by an old school bus, he heard the ceiling above him rumble, dust slowly dripping above him. He could feel his chest tighten, and he could only step forward after he had taken a moment to breathe; assuring himself the roof wouldn’t crash down on him.

Once he had walked further into the tunnel, an ambulance blocked his path out, the round light by it with its annoying brightness all but laughing at him for expecting any sort of metaphysical light at the end that would embrace him and transport him away.

No, it was too good to be true, was it? Will could only cringe, his hands clenching, anger and sadness dissolving in one single brew, boiling inside him. Peace and quiet were too much to ask for, now? He tried to open the doors of the ambulance: maybe there was anything there that could satisfy him and serve as a proper apology for this purgatory joke. But it was locked… Just as that shack outside.

He sighed, his breaths releasing from his lungs with painful effort. Perhaps he could return to the barley field and lie down… Maybe that was his reward… It was far from what he expected - but anything was preferable to that rotting curiosity and the burning disappointment from that hurtful deceit.

But as he was walking away, he heard a loud sound. It was metallic…

‘’Huh?’’ Will spoke for the first time, almost having forgotten what his voice sounded, reverberating all over the steel hardened walls. ‘’What’s making that noise…?’’

 ‘’Hello?’’ He took a few cautious steps, his heart clouded with overwhelming anticipation that only deepened the pit burning in his stomach. ‘’Who’s there?’’

Another sound in response. It pulsated in his head; it rang and shook the inside of his ears despite of how far it was.

‘’Answer me!’’

But it wouldn’t stop.

Nor would he.

And the second he had approached the ambulance again, a stretcher busted out of the back doors, falling right in front of him without tipping the body above it, quietly resting on its back, appearing shockingly familiar…

Him. It was… Himself. His cold dead body lying there, eyes shut tight, body naked, bare of any clothes but a generous blanket covering him by his waist. Oddest thing of all - if this whole situation wasn’t odd to begin with – was the fact that his chest had a Y shaped wound stitched up, a dark, seething substance peeking underneath. His skin was porcelain white, almost sickeningly so, the black circles around his eyes so thick they created the illusion of bone-like eye sockets. And yet… This unsettling appearance blended so well with his calm expression… So unnerving.

Without knowing why, he moved his fingers to his eyelids and rose them upwards, meeting the piercing gaze that reflected the colors of his own eyes – icy water blue, with hues of green and brown twirling around the dilated pupils. They had always been the one he liked about himself and even then, they still shined a little; in spite of life lacking in them.

To his shock, his irises began to fade away, leaving his eyeballs bare and white, dead and soulless like a fish out of water. Any image of calm and peace in his expression died along with those eyes, and it disturbed Will so much he had to close them – so that at least some quietude would return to that body, even if himself could barely feel that emotion after what had happened.

Once he leaned backwards again, he noticed that the odd shaped wound had started slowly leaking out that oily substance within him, the stitches amounting to nothing as the stains began to form symbols on his skin. Narrowing his eyes, he could now see they spelled out letters, its dark color reflecting rainbows on its surface. With some effort, Will could finally read what it wrote:

_No key could open this mouth to anyone and reveal the secrets it held… But perhaps it can still open something else entirely._

Will read the words to himself, and wondered about its meaning. It was referring to him, right? He wasn’t the most… Talkative person. He puzzled, however, about the solution. _Something else entirely_ …

Intuitively, Will deduced the only other thing he had discovered so far that had been locked was the shack, so:  hesitating, but attentively, he reached out to grab the chin of his body and brought his jaw down with ease; Inside, shining silver over his darkened tongue, there lay a small key, and after wondering what was it doing there in the first place, he reminded himself that there was no reason for anything he had seen yet so… It was pointless to try to rationalize any of this.

Will took the key, surprisingly dry despite where it had been, and he closed his mouth… _My mouth_ …He corrected. He knew exactly where to go now, and this voyage through the tunnel didn’t seem that fruitless in the end - relieving him somewhat for his cleverness, despite of his overwhelming confusion and haunting vision of his cold, dead carcass.

As he walked away to leave and came by the bus again, he heard the ceiling crumble above him once more, and a fearful instinct warned him something was very wrong. When he started running, the pillar creaked and whined under the strain of the old building as the roof fell in a thundering crash, his body propelling forward at the very last miracle second.

Dust settled in, and so did the silence, as much as Will’s scare had left him completely and utterly shaken up, standing up trembling with the mere idea of being left squashed like a cockroach under the heavy concrete, his own blood splattered all over the dirty road, his eyes just as white as of those-

He was sweating.

Coughing hard from all the dust around, Will cleaned himself up as nicely as he could, and finally left the tunnel onto the field of barley, the sky frozen at that very sundown, the light, the wind, the clouds still very much the same as when he had arrived to this strange place.

When he flickered his eyes for a while, he then noticed a stag parched right next to the shack, its fur dark grey, devoid of spots, as it should; yet around his neck grew a flock of voluptuous feathers, akin to one of a raven’s. Once he had gotten close to it, he strutted away towards a forest; one Will had not taken notice of before. Even more intrigued, he took a mental note to follow it once he had checked what inside the shack – so he unlocked it with the key.

Inside, everything was monochrome, much like the tunnel. The shack was decrepit, as one would expect, the windows dark despite Will knowing how beautiful it was outside. The ceiling, however, was filled with thick, plastic, electrical cords, connected to old machinery, made of cogs and pumps, and did not seem to mix with the aforementioned apparatus. There was a red, round light in the wall next to the machine, and underneath there were metal planks boarded up to what seemed to be a hole, the sign below it saying: **EMERGENCY POWER SWITCH, DANGER**.

Will knew he wasn’t strong enough to pull them out, and it would only hurt his fingers and nails to try. He could see something was definitely there - probably a switch to the machine if the sign was correct.

He decided to inspect the machine, and strangely enough there wasn’t any buttons or switches that could turn it on. Safe for the one behind the wall, no doubt. Upon further inspection, he could read an inscription on the machine’s steel counter, reading:

_Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart…Would it take another sacrifice to turn it back?_

Will sighed.

Just another thing he had to leave unspoiled until he could figure out how it worked… He was wondering where that stag had strutted off to, anyhow.

Once he had walked through the field, he noticed, oddly enough, that the barley could now only reach him by his knees, unlike when he had first woken up. Dismissing that, when he reached the forest, the deer had been waiting for him, starting to strut away the minute he had even brushed it.

‘’Hey!’’ he spoke out loud, but then questioned himself for even trying to communicate with a woodland animal, in spite of being one that appeared very eager to show him something…

They went deeper and deeper into the woods, then into a clearing, the sky radiating an unnatural shade of orange, painting everything in a similar color. The deer passed softly through the underbrush, careful not to make victim any of the small plants underneath its hooves. It happened to walk by a shell of a car, no doors and no windows, endlessly burning beside the huge log of a once mighty oak tree.

And yet, it kept pressing onward, and Will could only glance past that strange scene, only to walk into an even weirder one. The stag had vanished without a trace, and Will saw a grave with a stone cross adorning it. In front of him, a tree. Behind it, a rusted metal trailer with no roof.

Hanging from the tree… His limp, dead body, his head downwards onto the noose.

Will gulped.

He should be scared but - he just felt… _Empty_.

But there was something clearly shining on his neck, now that he could see. A key, most likely. At least this- version of him was wearing clothes… The same ones he was wearing actually, torn and tattered over rotting time…

Will knew the body was too high to retrieve… And as he tried to untie the knot securing it to the log, he knew it was pointless to even try, given how tight it was. He tried to open the door to the trailer… Yet it was bolted from the other side. This was beginning to become exasperating, he thought. Backtracking was the only choice he had now, so he did just that, expecting the body to fall, or the door to open.

But the second he had turned his back and taken a few steps forwards, the forest landscape around him had completely shifted, trees different than before, the orange light around him condensing into a fog that only made him even more tense.

‘’I can’t remember this place… Am I lost?’’

He began walking and walking, each step leading to a completely different location, gravestones tumbling down on the forest grounds. He was startled by a raven that flew the opposite way, and something - he couldn't tell what - compelled Will to follow it, trust it, just as he had trusted the stag.

Each time he found it perched around somewhere, the surroundings became familiar, yet he still felt as if he was going around in circles! The raven wouldn’t stop flying away back and forth, logically leading him off the right trail. However, as he was proven once more, logic wasn’t this world’s strong suit… And he found himself on the other side of the trailer.

Or… At least from the exterior, it had seemed so. He could see the other side of the trailer door, but this location wasn’t anything but a trailer, but rather a… ruined building with no roof, vines and lime covering the rust, trees growing inside its vicinity.

Then he saw it.

The raven was pecking at a deer carcass, a doe at that, flies buzzing endlessly around its putrefying head, the body, feet and legs upward, only so because of the strings that tied it to a pole over it. Will cringed at the horrible scent, protecting his nose and mouth as he approached it, realizing then the linoleum knife stuck deep into its womb.

‘’Good God… Who’s done this? Is there- anyone else here…?’’ He had thought he was alone. Evidently - a wrong assumption.

The raven swallowed a piece of decaying flesh whole. Will made an effort not to puke. This time around, he had really wished for that bird to flutter away…

He pulled out the knife, the blood on it so dry it looked black in the dim light. He knew what he had to do when he unbolted the trailer door and was met with that disturbing image that was very much real, of his body hanging from a noose.

Cutting the knot with the knife, he heard the rope strain and then it slipped, the body falling down with a solid, loud thump. Kneeling, from his own perspective, his other… Self appeared to be in a deep slumber, his neck thinner, and his bones more prominent and defined under the skin. He checked the pockets, but they were empty, he found. Seems like all he had to take was another key, which slipped from the necklace around his neck with bare to no effort.

He wasn’t going to open his eyes. Better to leave him asleep.

Will stood up, and left, unbeknownst of where to go now exactly, the locales of where he had passed through when he had been lost flashing back to him as he went back. Soon, the landscape became unfamiliar again, and the fog was thickened at the clearing of the forest. Instead of dirt underneath his feet, he could feel stone, a path perhaps? He couldn’t see with this fog.

After walking through it and catching glimpses of ruined graves and crumbled down walls adorning the path, he came across a gate; Its fence was stretched out as far as he could see, blocking his way, and stuck on the bars, by his left and right there were two antelope heads… And above it, a pig’s.

‘’Gruesome display… At least it’s not my head on the bars.’’  Will spoke to himself to provide some comfort and sound into this tense, insane world. ‘’This must be an entrance to a… home or mansion. There’s no crest. And—It’s locked, of course.’’

Will felt the coldness of the key in his pocket. Too obvious, perhaps? But it was the only way this world seemed to operate by… All chance and suspicious convenience.

The gate’s door opened with a loud, clinging sound, and Will pushed through, discarding the key in its slot. For some reason, a cold wind began brewing, and he was left unsure if it had always been there or fell over him all of a sudden.

The fog faded slightly, and the clearing he was walking on seemed man made. Symmetrically, the woods had been left on each side, a few leagues away, of course. The trees were devoid of leaves, and the thick logs were replaced by skinny ones, spotted bark and spared by winter.

This flora…It appeared to be different from those woods before, all of this spicing up Will’s curiosity... And confusion.

Then… A mansion. Huge at that; Majestic, also, worthy of a European aristocrat, despite the skeletons of vines and dry lime adding to its abandoned, sad appearance. By the porch, there was a chair… And a-

A man. Standing there, in a cobalt blue, plaid checkered suit, pristine and unspoiled, contrasting with that ruined mansion. His pants and waistcoat underneath matched perfectly with his over jacket, his button up shirt of the brightest blue, much like that evening shade that Will admired so. His orange tie was tied neatly against his lapels, and the swirling patterns shined a thousand colors. His breast pocket had a handkerchief of the same color, matching with the calla lilies he held in his right hand.

‘’Welcome to my house, Will Graham.’’ He greeted him, his low voice oddly loud, even with the distance between them. He had a thick but clear accent, packaging his words with the most elegant precision. It didn’t even sound normal…

‘’I have been waiting for you. I knew you would turn up, one day or another…’’

The fog conveniently cleared a bit and the sunlight shone brighter, allowing him to examine his now more defined features: quite peculiar, he found – Undulated shaped upper lip, thinly pressed against the lower in a stretched out, ambiguous smile; sharp, defined cheekbones… Small, but burning whiskey brown eyes; eyelids wide and pronounced, as well as his forehead, casting soft shadows over his gaze with barely nonexistent eyebrows. His nose was somewhat parrot like, but with smoother contours, matching his small nostrils. His hair was combed to the left, immaculate grayish brown shining in the orange light.

This all added to his overall mystery and elegance - immediate in his relaxed but, poised posture as he stared right at him. His… Everything – it shook Will by his core.

‘’ _Who_ … Who are you?’’ he asked in turn, taking a few steps towards the stairs.

His smile widened at his question, amused by it, he presumed.

‘’I have so many names… It’s hard to pick one.’’ He vaguely answered, glimpsing the shine of unnaturally long, straight line of teeth. ‘’But… I’m curious. Who do **you** think I am?’’

Will frowned.

‘’I asked **you** first.’’

The man chuckled.

‘’Always so abrasive… As expected. It would disappoint me, Will, after all this time waiting, to find you to be… _predictable_.’’

‘’You wasted your time waiting.’’ Will smiled sadly, blended with a tint of irritation. ‘’I’m- not worth waiting for. I’m just… Someone who used to exist. And if you want to really know who **I** think you are… You’re just a strange man, standing casually on the porch of his house.’’

The man didn’t grace himself with a response, his gaze all but branding Will in his entirety… He avoided it, aware he would notice - no doubt - and soon Will began to wonder the reason for those flowers.

‘’Those flowers you’re holding… What are they for?’’

His stare was broken at that question, yet with his wide smile never faltering.

‘’I’m going to put them on your coffin, dear Will. After everyone’s gone.’’

‘’I wouldn’t bother.’’ Will scoffed. ‘’I **hate** flowers.’’

The man seemed to eye him with the utmost intensity, his stare unnerving him immensely - It almost felt like he knew something he didn’t… Or a secret about him he was trying to hide that he had knowledge of. His eyes, instinctively, were shooting everywhere, trying their damn best not to stare back.

‘’Not fond of eye contact... Are you, Will?’’

‘’You know, I’m starting to wonder how do you know **anything** about me.’’ His discomfort was crystal clear in his ringing voice. ‘’My name, for once. And that I’ve di-‘’

Will stopped himself, his anger fleeting for a moment.

‘’Am I _dead_ …?’’

The man’s smile faded somewhat, but a ghost of it lingered.

‘’Is that an - obvious question?’’ Will asked, finally meeting again those melting eyes as his own begged without him wanting to.

‘’Not at all. It’s perfectly natural for you to ask so. My answer could… Disappoint you, however.’’

‘’And that is?’’

‘’Not _quite_. You’re in between, all of them, and neither. Similar to Schrodinger's cat.’’

‘’But- You said you were going to put those flowers in my coffin.’’

‘’I did not say precisely when, did I?’’

Will felt his throat tighten, almost as if tears were on the verge of welling up his eyes. But they were dry, even as if throat hurt progressively more at the notion that those- damn pills… **_Fuck_** …

The man was now serious, his gaze almost resembling compassion. He could read him like an open book; and it only brought out his anger to the surface akin to lava bursting out of a volcano.

‘’And this… place? Is this the box?’’ He spoke again, voice dripping with bitter poison for no other reason than to bring his sadness to something less confusing, something more blind yet direct - rage.

‘’This, dearest Will, is my kingdom. And this house is my castle.’’ Despite the saltiness in Will’s words, the man only responded with polite amusement, the pretense of knowing him, and false gesture of a slight bow, everything returning along with that smile merely to irritate him further.

‘’I rarely invite people in. Much like you, I enjoy my solitude and savor it more than anything else. But you are a special guest, and I’m going to make an exception.’’

‘’Me? _Special_?’’ Will chuckled in half amusement, and half in disdained disbelief. ‘’I can tell you now there’s nothing special about me, _sir_ … Or, well, there **used** to be. But that doesn’t matter now.’’

‘’You depreciate yourself too much, Will Graham.’’ He used his full name again, similar to a prize he branded with arrogance. ‘’If it’s anything to console you, today **you** are my guest of honor.’’

‘’I don’t need your consolation.’’ He remarked, teeth grinding his words like pepper that he would blow to the man’s face if he had any, only to see him move, react humanly, do anything apart from smile or fix him with those burning eyes.

‘’It’s no wonder you are lonely, Will… With all that hostility towards the common stranger.’’

 _Now_ … He **was** teasing him, belittling him, riling him up like a thread.

‘’You’re far from being the **_common stranger_** , that much I can tell you.’’

He smiled, almost as an agreement, and he knew – Oh, he _knew_. Will knew he had said just that so that he could agree with his response. It was a test, scrutiny, unwanted examination… And he detested him already for it. Furthermore, just the fact that Will was aware the man would realize that fact immediately as if he was transparent… It annoyed him even more.

He could finally tell what he was leading Will to do, bringing him closer to his sphere with his persuasive and repulsive words so that it would be far too late to escape when he realized his intentions. The sad truth is… He had nothing else to do but that. So he had to accept it.

He took a few breaths to calm himself, clenching and relaxing his fists as if relieving the stress and the non-stop flow of misguided emotions. He became willing, lowering his head mentally, and in posture, the man could see that in high definition.

He **hated** that.

‘’What do you want from me then? What is going to happen next…?’’

‘’It depends on you, Will. Inside my palace, there are dark hallways that lead to unknown places, places you don’t want to see. But there is also something that will make you want to return to where you came from… And cherish _every single little breath you take_  like sips from a fine wine.’’

‘’I’m going to make you an offer, Will. It’s a chance only a mad **fool** would refuse.’’

Will was intrigued. As expected. It disgusted him, knowing he could not turn away now.

‘’Okay… An offer? What can you _offer_ me?’’

The odd man smiled widely, stretching his free arm out and moving out of the way, motioning towards the door.

‘’We should come inside. It’s getting rather cold out here, wouldn’t you agree?’’

Will had forgotten somewhat about the freezing cold that had settled before, and after he had said that, it became so apparent and present, almost as if it had been suspended during their conversation and fell again the second he uttered those words.

He did said it was _his_ kingdom, after all…

Will reluctantly, yet simultaneously climbed the steps with yearning anticipation; walking by the man, this close from brushing past his chest. His head turned, almost mindlessly, to meet again with those whiskey eyes that fixed every movement like lasers, such contact so uncomfortable but so persuasive to reach for... And Will could not bring himself to explain why.

Once he had stepped inside, warmth filled him. The interior was as richly decorated as the outside of the building, yet… It appeared to be much more modern in comparison to its classical roots. It almost didn’t mix, like two completely separate places...

The decoration was plain, but exquisite; extremely elegant, but devoid of excess and brimming with exuberance. Some paintings of still life and landscapes adorned the Bordeaux walls, complemented by the dark mahogany appearance of the immaculate wood.  The illumination was simple, but inviting, and also hypnotizing, creating odd shadows over the long hallway.

As he followed the man, he examined his confident and stoic stride, with a flair for immense elegance and charm that would no doubt captivate anyone. Will was glad he wasn’t following after him, knowing that unseen gaze was already too burned in his thought for him to picture it too well, making him queasy at every step they would have taken.

Suddenly, as they approached a corner, a certain, rather small decoration took him by surprise. It was made of dark bronze, the pedestal but a high, lean table, very humble in its appearance.

It was a statue of the stag he had followed through the woods. 

Or well... It _really_ seemed like it.

Hypnotized, keeping his feet now still before it, he could feel his entire mind enveloping around that statue; his suspicions for that man and his world belittling him for unanswered questions – but he could not feel anger again, as struck as he was by it all… Or had he always been? He couldn’t tell…

Slowly, his hand rose to caress it, but then-

‘’Please don’t touch anything, if you would.’’ The man’s assertive tone shook him out of his bizarre trance, and the moment his gaze shot up to meet him, he noticed he was flat out back to him - no way he could have known he was about to touch it.

‘’I wasn’t… Going to-’’

‘’You lied to the whole world, Will... And you lie to yourself.’’

‘’ _Excuse me_ …?‘’ Irritation was quick to boil again at that hurtful comment, exposed as plainly as fact. Yet, instead of gracing him with a proper response, or a gesture of the head, a flick of eyes… He kept on walking forward, only turning his body around once reached the corner; raising an arm in the most straight manner towards the right hall, eyes devoid of anything - a face which could have rather been faceless.

Will reluctantly moved next to him, now on a hall that only appeared to continue similarly, except shorter in distance and more devoid of decoration. He turned, one or two steps away from that odd man, creating a vulnerable distance he found he was worthy of.

‘’Now… we can talk properly, dear Will.’’ The way the words seemed to cradle his name as he spoke them irked him greatly. All his smiles gave a sense of familiarity, deviating Will even more towards the opposite feeling… Yet, his curiosity had taken the lead and it would now be difficult to reclaim the main handle, almost as if he had been affected by some strange spell.

‘’I still don’t know what you really are… You never answered my question.’’

‘’Is that a question that is eating you inside, Will? Do you find it so hard to accept not being able to put a tag on me? Specially when wishing that would establish a bond, a connection… Perhaps wanting too that it would turn me from a stranger to a recently acquired acquaintance?’’

‘’You ask one too many questions yourself.’’ Will remarked cleverly. ‘’Do you find it _so hard_  to answer anything without asking something first? Or is that a shield mechanism?’’

The man grinned at Will’s wit, at last compliant to give him what he really wanted.

‘’I go by many names. I’ve never paid much notice to what the living call me. But there is one name a fallen once used when I spoke to them. I find it most melodic… Like a part in an opera: **Il Mostro**.’’

‘’What does that say?’’ Will asked softly and took a guess. ’’It sounds… Italian.’’

‘’It translates to The Monster. Interpret that as you will.’’

He chuckled, inadvertently stepping back once at the darker shades that he now saw in those fixated eyes.

‘’That doesn’t make me very comforted by your presence, you know.’’ He clarified, even when they both knew he had been uncomfortable for quite some time now. ‘’I doubt anyone would.’’

‘’So Belle from the tale would say… Until her mind was changed by the deceiving nature of the beast.’’ He referenced cleverly, a persuasive tone adorning his speech, as his body seemed to lean towards him - making Will tense up, even when he was still many inches away.

‘’There’s a reason why fairy-tales are outdated by modern day standards…’’ he eased his own insecurities by turning his metaphor upside down, yet Will found he did not smile as he usually would; his vague expression all but burning him. He took a deep breath, feeling the muscles in his limbs tense up at such a spear-like stare.

‘’Will I- be punished for taking my own life?’’

His gaze then softened somehow at his question, moving away from him to ponder the appropriate response.

''Most people would be... After all, suicide is the enemy to the living soul. Why should you waste God's living breath, the one he created with such care? It should only be permitted to be taken when He pleases.''

Will said nothing, intrigued by the heavy religious nature of his words, yet… All of it was- theatrical, it seemed. A mild infatuation with the theme, not a creed.

''Quite spiteful, don't you think? To punish your creation for having free will to decide how your own life should end?''

''What do **you** think?’’ Will asked instead, confused at his change of perspective. ‘’You seemed to be reprimanding me... Now you look like you are supporting my choice.''

''I am not God. I'm hardly in place to judge. Better to be impartial, than to be blindly biased, wouldn't you agree?’’ He humbly replied. ‘’In my honest opinion, I would never take my own life. I cherish self-preservation far too much. But I cannot take my life, nor find it in me to punish those who do. I have a duty, however. One I must separate from my personal feelings on the matter.''

''So... You would usually punish people like me?'' 

''Depending on the circumstance, of course, but yes. Usually I am forced to.''

''Then what is my circumstance...?''

''Your circumstance is unlike any other, Will. You see, I have watched you long enough to understand how you feel, how you think. I don't expect you to believe me, but I actually have compassion for you. Inconvenient... One would even say. But not enough to keep me from handing you my offer; Specially since I would consider myself to be, perhaps, your only friend.''

''Friend? This is charity work. A pity offer. You're a _friendly_ donor, maybe. **Not** a friend.''

''I can't force you to find truth in my words. But do know that there is, and that I do want to help you. I will give you back your happiness in exchange for a simple task. Your life will change completely; you will be yourself again. And you will soon forget the sadness that has consumed your heart and mind for years.’’

Will sighed. His chest was tightening around his sternum, twisting up the organs inside. His eyes wandered, as well as his mind, struggling to find the words that would soften the damage that wasn’t physical – but might as well be.

‘’Is there anyone else here?’’ He finally asked, changing the subject, eyes turning back to face the amber ones, always shaking him at the contact.

Oddly enough, Il Mostro chuckled loudly, his sharp, lean teeth opened from his lips like a wound, akin to a lion showing his fangs. His gaze could be mistaken for fondness, but underneath them was sly mocking… Never stopping.

''Why, I thought you liked being alone, Will.’’ He replied smoothly. ‘’Away from all those eyes that distract you and pierce you in their gaze... Away from everyone who takes advantage of you; away from all those who are too polite to lash out at your odd demeanor, those who ignore you and your beautiful thoughts simply because they don't fit the mundane puzzle their lives are.''

''That-‘’ Will hesitated, vulnerability immense as each word of the man dissected him, exposing him in a silver platter to a whole scrutinizing class. ‘’That doesn't matter anymore...''

''I was standing right behind you when you threw away all those photographs, you know?’’ The man continued, his features softened, yet just as impaling as before. ‘’I brushed your hair every night you cried yourself to sleep. I felt your burning face in my hands whenever your brain would simply leek out of your ears from all the boiling emotions. I saw _everything_.’’

''I know what you seek, Will.’’ He took the step he had retreated before, the distance seemingly so shorter now, the air so heavy between the inches left in its remnant…

‘’ _It's not here_.’’ His lips were ghosts, all he could see, defined but also fading. Will’s head was pounding, like each word was peeling a thin layer over his brain, leaving him bare, unprotected.

‘’It's **gone**. It will _**never ever**_ come again... **_No matter how long you wait for it to return to you_**.''

Will gulped, eyes closed. He took a deep, ragged breath, his throat hurting as he did. His body had felt numb for a while, although not surprisingly. The pain he felt had been amplified in the loudest decibels known, dissolving all his perception temporarily. Part of him actually wanted his body to do the same, if it meant opening his eyes again and not finding the devil staring back at him.

Sadly, not the case. He could only comply. Or, rather, _bow_.

‘’What do you even want me to do?’’ Will finally was able to ask, his voice stronger in the deafening silence. Thankfully, the brown eyes lost their weight, and the mocking teeth had retreated into the usual, curved smile.

''Yes, I think it is about time to explain.’’ The man nodded slightly, his posture relaxing its intimidation. ‘’But where are my manners? We're still in the entry hall. This is not a place for a serious conversation. Follow me to the next room. I'll tell you everything you need to know.''

They turned on their heels to go down the hall, morbidly decorated with antlers and religious baroque paintings of the most violent themes, contrasted by detailed still lives of fruit, vegetables, fish and dead animals in the previous hallway – matching perfectly with the nature of this world and the man, Will thought.

By the end of the hall, they reached a cobalt blue dining room, modern yet vintage in its overall look and decor. What most impressed Will was the long, black ebony dining table that occupied the length of the room, overly decorated with arrangements of flowers accompanied by elements very much similar to the still lives before – including the remnants of a banquet, it seemed, given away by the animal bones laid on the table most theatrically. The perfect mixture of elegant beauty and disturbing reminders of cruelty.

Will expected the man to take one of the many seats, or offer him one, but instead he just stood in front of the beginning of the table, turning to face him, silently encouraging Will to talk. When he didn’t, the man smiled and spoke instead.

‘’This is a much more appropriate place to talk. Any doubts you wish me to clear, Will?’’

He thought for a while. _Better give him what he wanted_.

‘’What's your offer then?’’ Will asked. ‘’What pieces of my life can you fix?’’

''Will, death can fix **nothing**.’’ He tersely responded, his expression devoid of all humor for once, aggravated by the harsh lighting of the room. ‘’Though we are both half dead half alive... I am _not_ death. I might seem just a strange man to you, but I'm just as powerful as a God... And I chose **you** , Will Graham.

‘’I'll need you to go back and face five people.They're not _ordinary_ people. They're very unique, just like you. Only in… A slightly **_different_ ** way.''

But still… Will couldn’t help but wonder, that question gnawing at his bowels, up to his esophagus, making his insides boil. He was so lost, and he just needed that question answered to, hopefully, feel the sweetness of relief.

‘’But… ** _Why_** did you choose me?’’ Will asked, at last, his lips struggling to get it out, reminding himself of all the reasons why not to. ‘’I'm not as unique as you think.’’

''Aren't you afraid I'll let you down, whatever it is I have to do?’’ he carried on at the man’s silence, his memories of dreams and nightmares returning strongly too him that they almost darkened the dining room around the still silhouette of the suited person in front of him. ‘’Most days it's enough of a struggle to crawl out of bed... I can't see the point.’’

He could remember his night terrors so easily now…‘’I just want to precipitate like water during the night, loosing consciousness as I dissolve and then evaporate away...’’

‘’And I... I can't bring myself to like anyone else, because they know a secret I can never know. Everywhere I turn, I see people filled with hope, who want to keep on living... Or people that are so at the bottom that make me ashamed to feel so hopeless in the first place.’’ He spoke as his words shook in the air around them that appeared to lighten, his head rising up like gas, fading and weakening the gaze shared between them. ‘’As much as I put myself on other people's shoes... In the end, I still exist as myself. And I can't be anyone else. I am alone.''

For a moment, the man didn’t seem to start talking, even after Will had long paused his confession, his eyes actually softening and his lips shaped downwards in an image of what appeared to be sympathy for him.

''This is the very reason I chose you, Will. Everyone around you lacks your most beautiful quality: **empathy**. You enter the mind of every person around you, even if you can't help to. But when you enter yourself, you only see mirrors...Your vivid imagination reflecting all the lives circling you. But as you try to figure what you are really made of, you can't find anything. That emptiness drives you towards isolation, since you can clearly realize no one can know that particular sensation. And that makes you terribly _lonely_.''

Will should have felt even more annoyed at this constant, creeping familiarity he had of his mindset and emotions, yet… His body was too tired to find any strength to muster a scowl or a frown at that, almost as if entrapped around those whiskey eyes that all but showered over him, enveloping him in a touch that ought to make him twitch away… But he could only react to it passively, so hungry for comprehension it all made it irrelevant in the end.

''I know how you feel... I have felt the same for quite a long time.’’ the man took a step forward, leaving his comfort by the table, his voice all but seductive fondness. ‘’You and I are **_very much alike_**.’’ He stated, boldly perhaps, but still inviting, cunning in its hypnosis. ‘’Both too interesting for own good, outcasts of society.''

It was then Will awoke to his senses - his guard shooting up at this disturbing proximity, which was doing its best to foster unconditional devotion… All a card game, all _bluff_. And suddenly Will was proud of his anti-social behaviors and trust issues – once in the real world only a frustrating flaw to people’s eyes.

''I don't find you _that interesting_.'' Will remarked sternly, almost relishing in how cleverly he had dodged such a deceiving bullet. However, no matter how good of a move it had been, it hadn’t finished the game – for, after he spoke, the man merely smiled, his eyes once fond, now amused in Will’s own cunning, as a form of impressed respect.

''Trust me, you **will**.’’ He mused, indicating they would meet each other again, furthering the tension in the room, and inside Will. He expected him to add something else, leaving those words up in the air, letting them fall like the cards in a blown card castle over the table to allow Will to pick them however he would like.

Will knew they couldn’t just stand there in silence… Despite his attempt to convince himself not to bury his head deeper into this playful thing.

‘’Those five people...’’ He proceeded, knowing too well how satisfied the man would be at his own unhelpful curiosity, one that just betrayed him. ‘’Who are they?’’

'' _Pigs_... That's what I call them. More alike **parasites** than human beings.’’ Somehow the melodious nature of his voice matched perfectly with the sudden aggression of his speech. ‘’None of them know each other... Yet all of them share the most disgusting trait of being unbelievably **rude**.’’

‘’Will, Those people will want to get closer to you; they’ll pretend to be your friends. But don't let that fool you. They have nothing but _cruel intentions_ , as harmless as they might appear.’’ He affirmed with the sternness of a loyal mentor – although nothing about him classified as that. ‘’You will have to keep your eyes peeled and be constantly on guard, like a mongoose that waits for the snake as it slithers by. They'll want to hurt you, Will. They'll want to kill you. But they're the ones that deserve to die.''

''Isn't my life bad enough without them?''

''Do not be overwhelmed. You’ll have great advantage over them.’’ The man’s own lips tugged upward slightly, his eyes all but melting fondly. ‘’They won't know that **you** know. You will become my mongoose, serving up snakes at my table, unleashing the punishment they are worthy of. A hunter walking, wading into the quiet of a dark, red stream. You'll find purpose in your life, once you finally see how satisfying it can be.''

''How will I recognize them?''

''You will know once you see them for what they are.'' The man answered vaguely; not carrying on further on purpose.

The realization had already came so clear to Will, so very crystal in its appearance as muddy as the encounter with this man was, as much opaque yet fleeting he was in his behavior. He smiled, but then he did not; His proposal was outrageous, but then again… What did he expect? There was no point in asking what was so obvious by now; a solution purposefully avoided…

‘’You're expecting me to **kill** them...’’

'' _No_ , Will.’’ He answered quite tersely, undoubtedly surprising him. ‘’I'm expecting you to fight for survival. To do everything you can to defend yourself... So I can properly deal with them, as it were, since it is only my duty to.’’

‘’I know you're not a murderer. Quite the opposite, actually. But I also know that you don't want to suffer... And those people won't hesitate to cause you unbearable pain. In the end, you might have no choice. Picture it as gardening - if they were weeds among the flowers, you'd pull them without thinking twice, wouldn't you?''

''I'm not exactly a gardening type...’’ Will clarified. ‘’But I see your point.''

''I'm glad.’’ He nodded faintly, smiling as he did. ‘’And remember this, Will - you are not their only victim. If you don't stop them, the killing will continue and innocent lives will be lost. You have the opportunity to erase scum from this earth... And a chance to _save yourself_.''

 _ **Save yourself**_ … Interesting choice of words. So his salvation would only come from the death of others... A bargain Will wouldn’t put past the damn man to offer – now that he listened, it would only make sense for him to counter with his objections.

‘’And what makes _you_ think I want to go back?’’

''I know you don't want to. You wouldn't have killed yourself if you did.’’

‘’Then why do you insist, I wonder…?’’ Will mused, his voice deep and dripping with distrust and animosity.

‘’I  _insist_ because I only wish the best for you… And the **worst** for them. What is the saying? _Kill two birds with one stone_? I suppose that is my intention.’’

Will chuckled, crossing his arms.

‘’What you wish for - is a handyman to do your **dirty work**. A job like this is for a mercenary, a bounty hunter, an assassin… Certainly not for _me_. ’’

The man smiled mischievously.

‘’True. You do not possess all the… _winning_ characteristics of the perfect hunter. Even if you accept my offer, you are still at the bottom of the food chain. And in order for you to not be, I've prepared a rare gift for you... One I would not grant anyone else.’’

Will frowned, his own smile fading at such an odd proposal.

'' _ **Immortality**_.’’

_What…?_

‘’You **cannot die** , Will. You will always return to life unscathed, no matter _what_ happens to you.''

He could feel himself diminish... The dining room in its entirety widened and darkened around him, the image of the man blurring in his vision, stretching long, _distorting_. Just the idea… **Immortality** – some people would kill for such a power, so blinded by the selfishness of it; But what Will wanted… Was the complete _opposite_. And if he knew… If he knew so damn much about him, his countless hours of numbness and unfeeling… Waiting for the end - _Why would he_ , then…? _**Why**_?

''… **What**?’’ His quick rising anger boiled upwards and made him grow again, his vision more defined and the room brighter with the hottest colors. ‘’That is the last thing I wanted! And you know very well why, apparently!’

''I've already made the decision.’’ He spoke strongly, interrupting Will, only to enrage him more. ‘’As long as _they_ are alive, you cannot die.''

‘’What you’re doing is _blackmail_...’’ Will began to shake in his frustration, his jaw tightening as well as the tendons tensing underneath the skin of his straight neck. ‘’You **_can't_** \- Why say I have a chance when you won't even give me a choice to begin with?’’

''It's only for your good, dear Will. When I said you wouldn’t regret coming back to life, it was a promise. And I _always_ keep my promises. If I gave you a choice, you will only have my offer... Or the path where you will **suffer for all eternity** , as that is what is destined for all those who kill themselves. It is a sad truth, but unfortunately... I don't make the rules.''

Will sighed raggedly, all his muscles pumping with the energy to lash out, hurt that man at his best capacity, his heart all but pulsating endlessly at the thought alone. But who knew what reaction he might provoke? What if the hands that would reach for the beady amber eyes would only pass through them as if a wisp of cloud?

He closed his eyes for a moment. And behind them he saw his apartment, his dogs sitting patiently for him to awake, and for once… He chose to believe that - perhaps he was asleep, unconscious, and this man was as fleeting as any other nightmare; never to return again in the nights to follow.

And when he opened them again, although the they were still in the same cobalt blue dining room, and the decorations still richly adorned the dark table, and the man in front of him still gazed with the same intensity as before… Suddenly, he could not believe any of it as true. And for the first time in his own night terror – that knowledge gave him the most wonderful relief, flooding over him like cold water from the drain, much like it would happen every morning; erasing all the demons for just one more day.

‘’... I'm _done_ listening to you.’’ Will smiled, and the peaceful despise in his voice removed the man’s own one, after minutes of waiting for another angry response. ‘’This is another dream… And you’ll soon be **gone**. Just like every other fucking dream.’’

His own voice had resounded around the walls, it seemed, with an intensity in its passive tone that **impaled** through the silence – one so heavy both of them could feel the weight on their shoulders. Yet Will’s head _finally_ felt light in his lucid moment, simultaneously enchanting and terrifying in its wake.

However, as Will expected to finally wake up to the door, or to the barks of his dogs, startling him out of his dormant state - it all changed with another smile from the man, breaking the peace he had thought he found for himself.

His voice when he spoke moved slowly as his wavy lips, his eyes poking at Will’s perception, as if he had just injected a drug into his veins that kept this mental voyage painfully going forward… In order to only allow him the satisfaction of the end when the Monster wanted to.

He started walking with poise, moving around the table to a glass door that would lead to a backyard – except where they should been a landscape of the outside, there was only darkness, like a room whose lights had all been flicked out; unperturbed by the light of the dining room.

''Will... See this door here?’’ He pointed out calmly as he slid the door open. ‘’Let's go inside.''

Begrudgingly, Will followed him into the darkness, the man letting him tread through the passage first. The moment the man had closed the door behind them, Will felt the barley and the breeze once more, the sky slowly fading in blue over him, as if God himself had turn the lights of the world on.

''I want to show you something that will help you decide which path you take.’’ The man stepped forward, allowing himself the lead. ‘’Follow me...''

They began treading the field, and Will could swear the barley seemed to avoid touch with the man as he stepped through, the skies darkening with grey clouds the longer they walked. In the distance, he began to see the cut out silhouettes of three large crosses, and a flock of crows flying over it. A corrupting feeling of unease began to secrete inside his stomach, as if everything in him was repelling him and begging to stay away.

But, as if magic, the distance shortened, and there they were: facing the three crosses in the field, the clouds deep grey above them as the images of a very familiar room in Will’s apartment appeared to fade in the sky… And in the cross, once again, lay a body nailed to it, decaying, mouth open wide, attracting flies and rotting with maggots – his clothes tattered and dirty, his eyes dead and his bones and veins showing clearly underneath his skull-like skin.

''Yes… It's _you_ , Will.’’ The man spoke, his voice as unnerving as the call of the crows pecking at the body hanging there like the cobwebs sticking to the wood of the cross.

‘’Come closer. Say hello.''

''I don't **fucking want to say hello**! _Haven't I_ had enough yet? That body in the ambulance, then the one hanging in the forest...’’ Will exclaimed angrily, with every reason to, his head pounding along with his heart, the memory of that awful place ringing and flashing; the more he saw the ghost on that open window and the jar of flowers by the bedside table, the more it hurt to stay, the one place that actually made him disgusted to stand there knowing what had happened there…

‘’This place _is_... This is **exactly** what I was _trying_ to run away from!!! I **DON'T** want to be _**HERE**_. _Make it go away_!''

''I assumed it would be wise to give you a _little_ taste of the suffering you'd endure.’’ He spoke as casually at his pained reaction as if they were discussing the weather, the harsh lights and shadows adorning his devilish figure. ‘’I want you to understand that just at that moment when you think you are at the brink of your pain, you can **_always_** keep at it longer than you _think_ you can.''

Will breathed rapidly, his whole body shaking with cold sweat clinging to his white clothes. It was then that he realized that by the body on the cross, there was a crowbar stuck. Almost instinctively, he pulled it out, and the man made no question, as if he had put it there himself.

Impulsively, Will thought of using to cause as much pain as the man had caused him, but before he could even make it a reality, the man turned to him and the sky above them thundered heavily, the world morphing into monochrome colors – the crowbar now invisible in his grasp.

'' _Will **, it's time to make a decision**_.’’ The mysterious man’s voice reverberated through the room, harsher and deeper than ever before. ‘’ **The Pigs** are coming _, whether you want it or not._ ’’ In the background, images of pigs, insects, human silhouettes and dead eyes began to flash - creating a horrible spectacle that created moving lights and shadows like unending waves fluttering through their features. ‘’The choice you have now is only an _illusion_ of pride. And when they come, **_you'll be out of choices_**.’’

Will was stuck in place, his eyes unable to move away from those which perforated him like giant drills, disintegrating his brain into thousand pieces. And yet… Despite all of this, what seemed to inflate his head out of his ears, nose and mouth... A part of him arose conscious, clear, after much deliberation – knowing there was only one way out of this nightmare he couldn’t control.

 _He had to bargain something as well_.

He thought for a while, and the man waited patiently. He closed his blue eyes, then released a long breath. Then he opened them again and, for once, his head was intact as he met the fixed stare – and the chill of his sweat and the bitterness of his memory seemed to evaporate away.

 _It’s just a dream. Play along with its rules_.

‘’… **Fine**. But on _one_ condition.’’

The man raised his eyebrows slightly, cocked his head to the side, his hands joining behind his back.

‘’And **_what_** is that?’’

‘’You said you wanted me survive, and that doesn’t _necessarily_ mean I have to kill anyone.’’ Will explained his reasoning, his voice eerily soft in his cunning proposal. ‘’You may have hold over this world, whether it’s real or not, but not in life. If I accept your offer, I don’t want you ordering me like I’m your servant. You **_won’t like me_** when I’m being pressured to do something I **don’t want**. So I’ll deal with these… _Pigs_ , as I well damn please.’’

His defined cheekbones seemed to twitch at the sharp intensity of his words, his eyes narrowing, and the apple of his neck gulping as his eyes all but branded Will in his own intensity, one they could match.

Will smirked faintly, his straight lined lips tugging at the corners, his eyebrows rising.

‘’Is that a fair bargain…?’’

After a second or two that appeared to last an eternity in a storming silence, the man finally met his own smile, the widest one yet, his small eyes softened in the darkness, amusement knowing neither beginning nor end.

‘’You will **_never_** cease to amaze me, Will Graham.’’ He spoke at last, his pleasure and surprise inseparable from one another at Will’s clever perseverance. ‘’Your arguments are _irrefutable_. If I am to be sincere, I do find it much more entertaining to guess where a freed butterfly goes than what a leashed dog does to obey its owner.’’

Will said nothing, his jaw merely tightening at the playful nature of those words.

‘’I do, however, wish to help you; with some... _Limits_. Would you find that agreeable?’’

‘’…I suppose so.’’ Even though Will wanted nothing more to never see him again, he preferred to be as quickly done with this as possible as to demand anything else.

He nodded slowly, and so the man began stepping forward softly, his shoes silent over the barley, his beady eyes fixed to the ground.

He was so close now, the eyes now facing Will near, his height towering him by a few inches. He held out a hand, and Will, hesitant yet confident, placed it into his – shaking them in unison. The moment Will was prepared to pull his away from that strange, perturbing warmth, the man gently put the other over their grasp, keeping his hold on him for longer than he wished it to.

‘’I _do_ remind you Will... If you try to kill yourself again… I’ll be here waiting for you. And then we can talk… Until you wake up again.’’

Once he blinked, Will swore he saw his face shift - his eyes turn white, his skin turned jet black like a crow’s feather and antlers growing out of his bald head… Only to feel the sticky, melting consistence of the claw like hands that now grabbed his – and he _knew_ , as darkness filtered up his nose and ears, engulfed his eyes and suffocated him through his mouth... That he had finally seen the monster for what he was; **the monster** he had just made a **_damning deal_** with.

 

* * *

 

Suddenly, Will could feel light behind his closed eyelids, his heart beating against his rib cage, moment after moment of terror involved into thick darkness. Once he smelled the warmth of the incense and candle wax, he opened his eyes slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the soft ambiance of the place he was in.

His vision was showered with gold, decorating all the walls and ceiling with byzantine mosaics reflecting the yellow light all over the serene faces of apostles and saints. Beneath his feet, richly illustrated marble; Behind him, only two small rows of retractable chairs, as much as the space would allow – which wasn’t a lot, unexpectedly.

‘’Where am I…? Am I still in the house? This looks like a Chapel… Weird addition.’’ Will wondered out loud, examining his luxuriously devoted surroundings, walls echoing with memories of soft chants to the Catholic God, imperceptible tongues but gentle as ever. The altar wasn’t too large, nor too small – richly adorned, but humble. Appropriate for Christ, he presumed. It was cut off; yet, before the stairs there lay a table filled with red candles, the flames waving timidly as he stepped by.

There was no way out that Will could see, and no voice would tell him what to do. Then, he saw a note lying in the table along with the candles, the paper grainy but smooth to the touch, and the most wonderfully designed handwriting was placed almost too perfectly in the line-less sheet.

The note said, without signature, and somehow, Will took a guess as to who had written them for him, almost as if he had just whispered those words into his ears, reverberating inside his mind just as soundly as his own.

 _Dead men tell tales without needing a mouth to speak. Mute messages are not found in echoes, Will._  

 **Il Mostro**.

Will sighed, and searched for any dead men depicted in the walls that could give him a mute sign. However, none were found – despite them all being dead, of course; they still were alive, beating, serving their purpose in the heavens… So it had to be someone nameless, someone that was clearly dead and only served to represent death to the devout believer.

He looked below him, and right beneath his feet there lay a mosaic of a skeleton, all torso but with emotion as his arms and hands formed a triangle and joined to pray to God above.

‘’There you are.’’ Will said and knelt to touch the fresh marbled stone where the rib cage was. The second he did, carvings in the stone on the background for the mosaic began to appear, in the same handwriting of the note:

_Men pray to see the divine light shine upon them. So shall you._

Source of light, upwards…The mosaic was pointing to the table of candles, so Will stood up to gaze upon it and wonder what he should do. All of them were lighted, none out, so the solution wasn’t in lighting one up – unless it extinguished on its own. But he wasn’t going to wait eternally for it to do so, and there was no wind or breeze that could do that work for him.

Almost out of instinct, Will leaned forward and blew out a random candle – and when he did, he saw the figure of a man in a dark room, covered in shadows and keeping his face away. He appeared to be holding a scrap of paper in his hand, standing still onto a chair. Letting it fall on the floor, his deep, unfamiliar, nasally voice rose sadly in the dimly lighted precarious room, his lips hidden from the view.

‘’ ** _They left me no choice, Alice. Maybe… one day you’ll forgive me?_** ’’

He jumped from the chair. The rope sprung soundly from where it was tied in the ceiling, breaking his neck as he hung, ragged suffocated breaths leaping out of his throat until he was finally silent, and forever would.

Will’s head was pounding. _Who… was that_? _And what just happened…_?

Something told him he **shouldn’t** have blown the candle.

And then he was back at the Chapel. Almost as if the work of a spell, the stairs to the right of the altar became visible for him, and the dim corridor below it seemed to lead to a set of ominous wooden doors. Slowly, as if hypnotized, he was drawn to tread down the steps and open it, the welcoming presence of the divine golden light all but gone as he approached it.

He opened them and odd smell of grass passed through the darkness oozing out the doors. He stepped into them reluctant, and as soon as they had closed behind him, he was back at the roofless shed in the woods, in the exit by the tree with his body resting below it.

‘’ **What the** …? How did I get back here?’’

He chose not to question in the end of course, determined to move on from this place as fast as he could. After minutes of walking to now familiar woodland surroundings, the sky and sun the exact shade and hue as they had been when he first arrived, he returned to the shack in the field; the wind howling with an odd intensity, urging him to go inside.

As he did, he felt the weight of the crowbar in his hands – as if it had disappeared and reappeared as it pleased. It all made sense now as he glanced at the planks nailed firmly on the wall, knowing now he could get to the button that would switch that broken machine back on. He could hear the thump of a heartbeat pumping inside his ears, going faster as he pulled the planks apart, revealing the dark hole in the wall. The red light besides it was enticing him to keep going – no matter how much it repelled him to reach so deep inside for the switch.

Hesitant, but determined, Will stretched his arm until it was inside the long entirety of it, his fingers barely grazing its rubbery surface.

The heartbeat became louder: Will couldn’t figure out if it was the machine making it or his own racing to the rising, boiling feeling it stirred in his chest.

He pressed it, at last.

And right by the entrance of the hole, a blade cut his arm right after his shoulder – and he shout out in immense, sudden pain, his eyes wide white, every muscle tense to maximum levels, his nerves firing up signals everywhere to instill the pumping panic rushing through his severed veins.

The light turned green.

The hole was red with his blood.

His hand immediately shoot up to the wound, but it was useless to try to stomp the never-ending, squirting flow of the blood that stained his white clothes red. He ran to the door of the shack, which closed on him, and while releasing unending quick, high pitched breathing – he turned and even smashed on top of the machine… Only to let drop after drop splatter the cold rusted metal of the machine, which steadily began to shake, running splendidly with cogs, always turning; And suddenly the sentence that was engraved made crystal clear sense.

It was **_his_** sacrifice.

The door opened, and Will rushed through, moaning, grunting, yelling in his pain, hoping something or someone would help him as he ran frantically down the ruined tunnels, the bricked walls pounding and pounding much like his head did. It should all be a nightmare, his broken, shouting thoughts told him, but the pain felt so real, and his vision was _distorting_ , **_his head dancing like the lights that approached it at the end_** … Hopefully he would wake up to his dogs, in his house, painless, at peace… Never to pick up another pill ever again.

 _He had to_. **_He had to…_** **He. Had. To**.

When he hit the light, he was blinded by it.

And for once, alone in this blinding light, with no sense of self as if he were just an abandoned baby in the road… He felt nothing but pain as he cried out the loudest he could.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And here is the end of Chapter 1! Explosive ending I know...  
> Before you read any further I should remind you all that a lot of this plot, dialogue and writing comes mostly from The Cat Lady- it's one of the most fantastically written narrative-based games I've ever seen, and one I greatly recommend you watch or play. That's why I should tell you guys straight out that I can't be merited 100% for the writing in this fic, although most of the descriptive parts and additions are original or heavily inspired by the Hannibal series, one of my favorite shows of all time.  
> Either way, there's a great mixture of both original content and canon material, both from the game and the show, and I hope that, regardless of what I said here, you enjoy this fic! It's an AU I'm very proud of, since it's practically made for these characters.  
> Anyway, I've rambled enough.  
> I hope you like it and I'll pray I won't break your heart too much xD


End file.
